He heard me during rest time, weeping softly in my room, begging God for perspective. I was asking to see Him. To know Him more deeply as I struggle and wait. The door opened gently.
“Mommy?” Bear’s whispers broke into my cries. He climbed onto the bed with me and pressed his face against mine. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, Bear.” I rested my hand against his cheek and took a deep breath. “Mommy was just praying and talking to God. I just need some perspective.”
“What’s perfective?”
I chuckled. How to explain that to his four-year-old mind? “Well, baby, it’s needing to see things through God’s eyes rather than mine.”
He was quiet. “Oh.” Silence permeated the room. His little arms reached over and he hugged me. “I don’t know what that means. But I love you.” Then he was gone, jumping out the room, turning at the door, eyes sparkling, dimples flashing.
I heard his laughter hang in the air as he disappeared down the stairs.
Oh, my Bear. How I love you, too!
Perspective. It can show itself in many ways. I saw it today in the green eyes of this sweet gift of a child.
(Quick update: They have moved my biopsy to Monday morning. I will find out the results next Friday. I continue to wait. I continue to cling. God is with me. Of that I am certain.)
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